The school girls were much different, giggling and shy. We did a lot of kissing and petting on dark park benches, but I never had the guts to go beyon... that. In the Army, some of my comrades were already married and/or had years of sexual experiences with women of their age. So, I felt as a newcomer listening to their stories and was embarrassed to tell them about my particular history. This all changed when I met Gerda. She worked at the bar across the street from our quarters which happened. They passed several offices with people working pretty much as they do in any business. "My name is Rhonda," the buxom lady said as they went through another door and into a studio. "Just stand over here," she directed, and Chris stepped in front of a red backdrop. Lights came on and Chris blinked his eyes against the glare. "Stand up straight and smile," said Rhonda's voice from beyond the lights. Chris did as he was told. Flashes of light from a strobe told him that his picture was being. "But how do you stop feeling guilt?" You just need to tell yourself your better than all the rest of them," I told her. "We are better than other people, than the sluts. We're special, and they're not." That's it?" Yeah," I answered. She sighed, and hugged me tightly and her body shook and I realized she was crying. I froze. I didn't know what to do, what to say. I didn't have a lot of experience comforting crying women. I just squeezed her back, stroking her wet hair. "I ... uh. We can..." I. Others were quite subtle.For one, she thought that she should have had brown hair. And secondly, she didn't remember having plump lips that looked like they had been pumped up with a liquid.But there were many other little changes that confused her. Like, why should she like this awful man?Dawn looked at Fink. He reclined in his chair behind a large, oak desk. She didn't know why, but she felt an intense attraction to this man and his smile. Why was he smiling like that? It made part of Dawn.
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